Two of a Kind
by Zeelee
Summary: Based on current X-men continuum. Bobby and Emma Frost have never been close, never wanted to. But now that everyone else has deserted them, where else can they go?


A/N: This fic takes place after current events in New X-men and Uncanny X-men continuum, most notably Emma's mental affair with Scott and her murder and Bobby's powers going haywire. It also includes a bit about Scott's and Logan's little manly-man adventure in Weapon Plus, but after that I take the plot into my own hands. Also, I changed some things: I've said that ALL the X-men chase after Kurt when he leaves instead of just one team, except for (obviously) Bobby.  
  
And as always, Review! Even if you didn't really like it, tell me, please. My soul lives off of reviews. :)  
  
Enough of me. Bobby and Emma, take it away....  
  
  
  
_Prologue  
  
She is an intimidating, scary woman. Whatever else you wanna call her, she's terrifying when she wants to be, and she'll get your respect no matter what it takes. No matter what you think of her, by god you have to admire her resolve, her strength.  
  
Looking at her, speaking with her, you get the unmistakeable impression that she really doesn't give a damn whatever anyone cares about her. You know, I think she even enjoys the hatred many people in our little team' have for her--it probably makes the fact that we need her that much more ironic and delicious. She's stepped on so many people on her way to the top, and when she couldn't step on us, she joined us. Makes no difference to her, apparently.  
  
As for me? I stear clear of her. I don't hold any hard feelings, but I feel no need to get close to anything that would as soon kill me as look at me. And frankly, I don't think she cares--or even notices--that in the months since my team came home, I've hardly said two words to her.   
  
And why should she notice? I'm the comedian, the funny guy, the sarcastic dude who never means what he says, whereas she's a cold bitch from hell--like I said, no hard feelings, that's just who she is. She doesn't have any reason to pay attention to a dopey clown who never says anything serious, and I have every reason to stear clear of her.   
  
Every reason.   
  
Until now._  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Chapter 1**  


  
  
I'm alive.  
  
I'm alive.  
  
_I'm alive._  
  
As you can see, it's still a bit of a revelation for me.  
  
Every part of me hurts. You wouldn't think a diamond could feel pain, but when they're practically shattered and only held together by a distracted telekinetic and the desperate control of an exhausted telepath--well, you tell me.  
  
Hank did me the decency of covering me with a blanket before leaving on whatever mission they're all on. I didn't quite realize what a friend I had in him: there's not many people that would spend hours piecing together the miniscule pieces of a shattered friend whom everyone thinks dead. And I would hate, after all his hard work, for him to come home to those shattered diamonds scattered and unconnected again, and the soul (if you could call it that) of Emma gone once more.  
  
So I'm holding on.  
  
But I swear, that's the only reason. If it weren't for Hank's kindness and my goddamn consciousness wanting to repay old friends, trust me, I would be long gone into wherever you go after death--hell for me, most probably, if you believe all that Christian stuff.   
  
Being caught seducing one of the stiffest men in the mansion by his beautiful, all-powerful wife, having said all-powerful wife completely humiliate me by viciously rifling through my most painful memories, being painfully shattered by a gun controlled by one of my former _students,_ and then being dependent on Jean Fucking Grey for not only saving my life, but helping me keep my body from falling apart--that, in itself, would be embarrassing enough to die for.  
  
But it hurts to keep an already shattered, dead body alive. Hurts more than anything I've ever known. And Jean, the woman who gave me this pain in the first place, sure as hell isn't helping much. Which of course means the gravity of the situation they're in must be horrible, for it to be enough to make Dear Goddess Jeannie to forget her precious responsibilities and promises.  
  
For all I know, they're barely scraping by with their lives out there. For all I know, they might all be killed, and I'll be left alone in this mansion, a psychic ghost clinging to life all by herself.  
  
Oh, come on, Emma! You, of _all_ people, should know better than to wallow in self-pity. For christ's sake, the X-men never send _everyone_ out on one mission. There has to be someone else in the mansion.  
  
_Is anyone out there?_ I don't have the strenght to audibly call for help or companionship; mustering a telepathic call is almost more than I can muster. _Anyone? Please?  
  
_The silence echoing in my own brain is answer enough. The students are here, yes--but what can they do? It was a student of mine that brought me into this mess in the first place.  
  
Gosh golly gee, Emma, you know I think that's the first time I've ever heard' you say please?  
  
Wonderful. I get the class clown as company. It could be worse, I suppose. I could be stuck with Jean.  
  
"What's the matter, Emma, no hug? Aren't you happy to see me?"   
  
My god, could he possibly be more annoying? I concentrate on turning my head to snap at him, but gasp when I see him instead.  
  
He seems to be in almost worse shape than I am. He's helf iced over, and half not, and when he entered the room it immediately dropped more than several degrees--being in diamond form, I can't feel it, but I can see his breath. Ice is growing on the walls of my room (cage), and great sheets of ice swoop towards me, and for a second I'm scared, but then it retracts back into him. I watch him throw his head back as ice ripples through him, spiking out of his shoulders and chest only to be absorbed back onto his body and then back into the walls.  
  
He stares at me defiantly, daring me to say something about his condition. I've never been one to back down from a dare.  
  
_My my, Bobby. Is that an icicle in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?_  
  
Bobby lears at me, and I would laugh if it weren't for the fact that he's making ice sculptures out of my walls and growing icicles out of his chest--involuntarily. "nice to see you, too, Emma. I must say, you look rather broken up about something."  
  
Ouch. Suppose I brought that one on myself. _What the hell happened to you, Drake?_  
  
"Powers've gone erratic. Was confined to the mansion instead of the mission everyone's on to make myself all better."   
  
_Mission? What mission? Where is everyone?_  
  
"Oh, didn't you hear? Apparently, Kurt's been possessed and stole a jet, the naughty boy. Xavier sent pretty much every X-man in the place to bring him back."  
  
'_pretty much?_  
  
"Well, Polaris and Xavier are here, along with Annie and Xorn, and I don't know where the hell Logan and Scott went."  
  
_Scott's... gone?_  
  
He gives me an odd look, surprised I would care. I guess he hasn't heard the rumors. "Uh, yeah. He went off to pout after fighting with Jean."  
  
I was dead. He's been crying on my shoulder, confessing to me, psychically making love to me for weeks--he even defended me to his precious wife--and he doesn't even bother to come back when I get viciously murdered.  
  
I guess I was just another distraction in the end.  
  
_Of course. I guess I'm not that high a priority for all of them--just another spec of dirt to the mighty Phoenix and Cyclops. They're probably celebrating and sighing in relief that I'm out of their lives now._  
  
He stares at me incrdulously, and I can see the ice on the walls ripple angrily and inch closer to my bed. If he's not careful he could ice up the whole damn mansion if he gets too emotional. "Are you kidding me?! Jean saved your life! If it weren't for her you'd still be a pile of diamond dust!"  
  
_Oh, excuse my misconseption then! I'd better write her a thank you note--would you mind dictating, Bobby? How's this: 'Dear Jean, thank you OH SO MUCH for raping my mind and humiliating me worse than I ever thought possible, for making me want to die and then just when my wish was granted pulling me back! How can I ever repay you?_!  
  
He rolls his eyes. "She caught you actively seducing her husband, Emma. Honestly, what would you have done in her place? Not that I'm condoning her actions, but still-"  
  
_I would have knocked her through a few walls, maybe blasted her a couple times. I wouldn't have torn any bit of self-respect she had to shreds, I wouldn't have exposed her deepest secrets to the entire world! _I know I sound crazy, and I don't care_. Goddammit, Bobby, she didn't even give me the mercy of real pain! She didn't even have the guts to kill me, she just raped my mind and spit on the remains of my dignity. She's not even sorry, Bobby. She only 'saved' me to convince everyone she wasn't a monster--she KNEW that I would have been happier dead!_  
  
"Don't say that."  
  
_Why the hell not? Does a death-wish tarnish my reputation? Does it shake up your perception of me as this unbreakable ice queen, completely unphased by everything? Well, I'm sorry if I'm destroying your illusions, Bobby, but right now I'm sick of being cool and collected. I just want to let it all go._  
  
For a second he looks taken aback, surprised that I attacked him personally. But then a curious look passes over his features, and I can feel his blue eyes boring into mine. "What would you say if a student of yours said that?"  
  
_... what?_  
  
"You're a teacher. You care about your children. What would you tell one of your kids if they said they wanted to die?"  
  
_I... what a ridiculous question, Robert. This is a completely different situation!_  
  
He snorts. "Right, because, you know, none of OUR students have EVER survived life-threatening situations that made them just want to die. No no no, we never put our kids through that."  
  
Damn him and his sarcasm. _ I have never put my children through anything like this before, Robert. How dare you accuse me of not caring about the students! Do you think that I LIKE putting them in life-threatening situations?_  
  
"Oh come on, Emma, stop avoiding the god damn question. You're psychic, you know that's not what I meant." He leans in close, and ice particles swirl around me. "What would you tell one of your students if they said they wanted to die?"  
  
_I... I would tell them to stop being stupid and make themselves useful. But I can't--_  
  
"See? You're acting stupid even by your own standards. Why on earth would you want to die, Emma? You just got another chance to LIVE. You're young, beautiful, intelligent, rich and you have a chance to do an amazing amount of good for the world--not to mention a great batch of students. And, whether you know it or not, you have a whole lot of great friends who would do anything for you here at the mansion. You have EVERYTHING to live for, Emma."  
  
His faith in me--in the life I lead--hurts. If he only knew. If he only knew that the EVERYTHING I supposedly have to live for is really nothing. If he only knew that in reality, my life is lifeless, numb and hard as this diamond form. _I have nothing to live for, Bobby. Nothing._  
  
He regards me, and I can see tenderness in his eyes, but no pity. "Emma, you have no idea how silly you sound saying that. Come on, you're Emma Frost! You once held the whole world in the palm of your hand; you were once the X-men's greatest enemy, and then you were one of our greatest allies. You're one of the most powerful women alive! How could you-  
  
_Was, Bobby. I _was_ one of the most powerful women alive. Now look at me.  
  
_He rolls his eyes. I don't believe this! You want to _kill _ yourself because you're not in the Hellfire Club, or rich, or whatever anymore? _Please._ He stops for a second, and plunges his iced up hand into his iced up chest, retrieving several ice daggers and little chips of ice. They hurt, he whispers. These... things grow inside me, stabbing me from inside... The jagged splinters grow and morph and swirl in his hand, and then, without warning plunge back into his chest. He gasps, and presses a hand to his heart, breathing heavily and sweating little ice splinters. You know, Emma, he says, his voice hoarse, we all get embarrassed and humiliated from time to time. We all have shitty days, and hey, around here we all have near-death experiences. He takes a deep breath, concentrates and, for a second, he's almost normal: no ice on the walls, no ice on his body that I can see, though I think his chest is still crystallized. He's just a normal guy.   
  
He looks me in the eye. We have to move on. We have to dust ourselves off and go on to the next thing, or we... we couldn't live. The X-men lead such strange lives--sometimes I think everything we do just consists of picking ourselves off the ground only to get shoved back down. He sighs, and I can see his concentration slipping--frost is gathering on the bedpost he rests his hand on. And I dunno, maybe I'm not the best person to be advocating not-feeling-sorry-for-yourself, but... it's the only way to survive around here. You have to keep picking yourself up, you have to keep going. He leans forward, and I can see a wicked gleam in his eye. Besides, Jean's lived through _tons_ of this shit. Are you saying that you can't hack it as good as she can?  
  
Despite myself, I laugh. He knew that would get me.   
  
I swallow. _I just... I know how she'll be when she gets back. She knows my secrets, my past, all my little hurts and pains... she pities me, Bobby. She's going to be so nice, and so forgiving, and so cold, and somehow work everything out with her darling husband and their marriage will survive because it's so damned _special..._  
  
_He takes my hand in his, and I feel ice slide up my arm, crystallizing and holding together my shattered diamond form. I know what you mean. When they're so condescending and sympathetic, once they know they've won-  
  
_When they have that fake kind' look in their eye-  
  
_When they go to every length to be there' for you, to make sure you're okay-  
  
_But you know that really, they're still just reveling inside over the fact that they won, that you're defeated, that now you owe' them. _  
  
He smiles. is all he says, but I catch a stray thought: _I guess we have more in common than I thought...._ possibly, icicle. Possibly.   
  
He sighs, and still hasn't let go of my hand, which for some reason is oddly comforting, despite the fact that ice creeping up and down my arm is increasingly uncomfortable. We make quite a pair, you know. A rogue ice machine and a broken telepath; gosh, the X-mansion really is equipped to handle the worst.   
  
_Thank you, Bobby--I _really _ want to dwell on what exactly will happen if we're attacked right now._  
  
He arches an eyebrow at me, and I almost let a giggle escape my mouth. Ah, come on--we could take   
  
_Right---you can impress them with your amazing lack-of-control and I can taunt them with my wit. We'd be unstoppable. _  
  
Oh Emma, you wound me, you really do.  
  
We're back to our regular scathing banter, and the relief I can feel from him echoes my own. I don't want Bobby to be witnessing me at my most helpless; I don't want him to be the one who comforts; I don't want him to see me as anything but an untouchable ice queen, and I know he doesn't want me to know him as any more than a class clown.   
  
He lets go of my hand and straightens up, yawning and stretching. Well, since I'm _obviously_ our only line of defense, I had better go back to guarding the fort, hadn't I? He turns to go, and I feel panic rise in my throat.  
  
_Don't leave me alone!_ The pleading thought is outside of my mind before I can stop it, and I could die of embarrassment: Bobby is staring at me as if convinced I'm some impostor--the Emma he knew would never beg like this. And he's right--I don't know what the hell I'm doing, or why I want him to stay so badly, but I can't stand the thought of being alone again, just me and Hank's equipment, staring at each other till the X-men get back.   
  
Um, all right- Bobby shrugs and sits back down. Whatever you say, Em.  
  
_Don't call me Em._  
  
He rolls his eyes. But of course, _Ms. Frost_...  
  
_Don't take that sarcastic tone of voice with me young man!  
  
_I don't know how long he stayed with me. After a while we stop talking and just sit there, and I can see him falling asleep. He's fighting it, though--despite his exhaustion he doesn't want to leave me companion-less. What a sweet boy.  
  
He can't fight hard enough, though, and soon I can hear him lightly snoring beside me. I don't mind; just having someone there, not afraid of me, not resenting me, just being with me feels so... good. I haven't felt that in a while.   
  
By the time the rest of the X-men get back, I'm exhausted. I've been holding on to this body by sheer willpower for what feels like days, unable to sleep or eat. Bobby's fast asleep, his hand still in mine, and I blush at the weird looks I'm getting from the other X-men. Bobby wakes up like a little boy, yawning and sleepy and his hair all mussed up. He only nods when Beast tells him he has to go back to his containment chamber,' avoiding the eyes of his teammates, still ashamed about his powers, and I feel a pang of sympathy for him.   
  
But then Hank's arms are supporting me, hooking me up to some telepathic machine that will keep my body glued together until we can find a permanent solution. Go to sleep, Emma, he whispers, and I am only too glad to comply.


End file.
